


Payback

by percyinpanties



Series: Sheith (Pre-Kerberos) Shenanigans [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 01:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/percyinpanties/pseuds/percyinpanties
Summary: Comm work: Keith bids on and wins Shiro for rent a senior week at the Garrison, so he keeps his hands tied behind him for every spare moment. At the end of the week, Keith edges Shiro to orgasm.





	Payback

Personally, Keith thinks the whole event is stupid. _Rent-a-senior_ has been part of the Garrison’s yearly fundraiser for years now, and its strange popularity amongst both the student body and the faculty is beyond Keith. Last year, he and Shiro had attended just to make fun of it, watching catfights over the most popular picks and instructors taking pity by bidding on the underdogs.

 

This year, however, things are different. It’s the fourth year in a row, or so Keith has been told, that the Garrison is asking their seniors to volunteer themselves for a week of shenanigans at the hands of whoever bid the highest sum. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Shiro was asked to participate in this year’s round, given his good looks and popularity amongst their peers, but that doesn’t stop Keith from telling Shiro exactly what he thinks of the entire set-up when he finds out that Shiro has agreed.

It’s not that Keith had expected anything else, but that doesn’t make him any less prone to sharing. He’d be damned if he let anyone else hog Shiro’s attention exclusively for an entire week just because they bid a little more than Keith might be willing to invest in such idiocy himself. Maybe Keith is being petty, but Shiro doesn’t seem to mind when Keith quietly promises him the morning of the fundraiser that only he will take Shiro home tonight.

 

It’s the single reason Keith manages to dress up decently and drag himself to the gala. He finds a chair to the side of the large hall and reluctantly settles in for a long, _long_ evening. Shiro is among the last seniors, and given the ‘entertainment interludes’ as the announcer had called them, it’s pretty late by the time Shiro is welcomed onto the stage.

It gives Keith a minimal advantage, not everyone has been patient enough to wait, even though the most popular picks always tend to come on toward the end of the night to coax people into staying longer than they have any interest in doing.

 

Shiro looks gorgeous when he steps onto the stage. He picked out a purple button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and fabric hugging his torso tighter than Keith thinks is strictly necessary – not that he’s going to complain, really. His legs are clad in a dark pair of jeans Keith _knows_ he picked for Shiro, and something about that ignites a fire low in his stomach.

There’s a couple of girls chatting and giggling to his right, and a couple of his classmates in one of the front rows laughing and joking (Keith only recognises Matt amongst them, and he hopes seeing Keith bid will be enough for him and his group to back down). It’s better than Keith hoped, although he can already tell he’s going to be spending more money than he wanted to, really.

 

Surprisingly, it’s a lot easier once the bidding begins and Keith pretends it has nothing to do with Matt’s intervention or the way Keith has glared daggers at the group of girls until they understood Keith won’t be backing down. By the time the host finally calls Keith’s number as the winner and sends Shiro off in the direction of his owner for the week, Shiro looks a lot closer to laughing than Keith thinks he has any right being.

 

People watch as Shiro makes his way through the seats and tables, and while Keith definitely doesn’t care for the attention, he still makes a point of dropping the soft purple rope he’d brought along on the table next to him. It wasn’t planned, although it certainly must look like it now – if the way Matt’s laughter rings through the hall (followed by wolf whistles) is any indication.  

Of course, there had been little doubt in either Shiro’s or Keith’s mind on how this evening would go and Shiro hardly seems surprised by Keith’s display of confidence now.

 

“Gonna tie me up tonight already?” Shiro teases quietly once he is close enough that his words are only for Keith alone, and not for the people unsubtly turning their ears toward them. “You know, normally people wait until the next day.”

 

Despite his words, Shiro offers his wrists to Keith as he comes to a stop right in front of Keith’s seat, legs nudging Keith’s knees where he stands. It is tradition, and Keith would really rather not think about how that came to be, that bidders tie up their prize for the week. Not everyone goes through with it, especially not for the entirety of the week, but Keith isn’t about to half-ass this. There’s only so many chances he’ll get in life to have Shiro at his mercy like this and Keith has every intention of enjoying it until the last minute.

Regardless of tradition, people are still watching with wide eyed, surprised gazes, like they hadn’t expected to see Shiro offering himself up so freely.

 

“What can I say?” Keith looks up at Shiro, the smallest of smiles playing on his lips. “I’m not a very patient person.”

 

Maybe this will prove to be worth it after all. Maybe, Keith thinks, it’s even going to be fun. He twirls a finger in the air next to his head, gesturing for Shiro to turn around. In response, he gets merely a raised eyebrow, but Shiro does as he is told regardless and turns in his spot, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

Meanwhile, the bidding has moved on to the next senior, some big biff guy Keith doesn’t recognise, but it distracts the crowd from then as Keith reaches for his purple rope again. Shiro shivers under Keith’s touch when he ghosts his fingertips over Shiro’s wrist, tracing the lines of knuckles and bones underneath the skin before Keith behind to wrap the rope skilfully around both wrists. The knot is loose enough to allow Shiro some movement – Keith doesn’t want this to start hurting, doesn’t want Shiro’s arms to cramp – but it’s still tight enough that Shiro won’t get out with any help.

 

“Perfect.” Keith hums, sounding far more pleased than he meant to let on, before he’s pulling Shiro back by knot and into the seat next to his own. His hand stays there, low on Shiro’s back, and Keith takes the moment of relative privacy to lean close and whisper into Shiro’s ear: “I hope you’re going to make this worth my while, Takashi.”

 

Shiro flushes, but he doesn’t offer any answer. He shifts a little in his seat, but whether it is because Keith is getting under his skin or he is just trying to get comfortable despite his bound hands, Keith cannot tell in the low light. They stay, out of politeness or subtlety, for a few more rounds, but Keith can’t make himself watch the stage when Shiro’s so damn distracting right next to him.

 

“Let’s leave.” Keith says finally, eyes still trained on Shiro, who turns his head slowly to meet Keith’s gaze.

There’s no room for discussion in Keith’s tone, but Shiro isn’t bothered. He gives a little nod and stands, waiting for Keith to get his bearings before they turn toward the doors. People hardly pay them attention now, even as Keith sneaks a hand back to the small of Shiro’s back just before they step out into the hallway.

Normally, this should be when Keith releases Shiro from his restraints so they can both go their separate ways for the night, but Keith doesn’t quite feel like playing along with Garrison traditions. Shiro’s room, unlike Keith’s, isn’t shared, so that’s exactly where Keith guides them now. There is a small smile on Shiro’s face when he realises which direction they are headed in.

 

“You know, I’m not sure sleeping with your senior is part of the tradition.” Shiro whispers quietly, even though there is no one around to hear. On another day, this might have made Keith blush, but not tonight.

 

“Presumptuous.” He says, looking up at Shiro for only a second as they turn the corner. “Who said I’m gonna sleep with you tonight?”

 

It shuts Shiro up effectively, and while he doesn’t quite pout Keith is sure he wants to. When they stop in front of Shiro’s dorm, Keith doesn’t bother untying Shiro to let him in, but rather sneaks a hand into Shiro’s back pocket to retrieve the key-card hidden there. The door slides open for them, and Shiro doesn’t seem quite as put off anymore when he steps in and waits for Keith to follow.

 

The door closes, and Keith finally gives in to the temptation he’s been fighting all night: He pushes Shiro back against the door and crowds right into his space.

 

“And here I thought you hated this whole thing?” Shiro asks, held back amusement sneaking into voice. Despite his tone, his breath hitches as Keith’s hand run up his sides.

 

“I do.” Keith grumbles quietly. He tilts up his chin, meeting Shiro’s eyes with a frown pulling his brows together. “Usually, I don’t have to pay to spend time with my boyfriend.”

 

This time, laughter rumbles through Shiro’s chest – Keith feels the vibration of it against the palms he’s got pressed against Shiro’s chest. When Shiro leans down, seeking a kiss, Keith doesn’t meet his lips but glares at him instead, which only sends a new wave of laughter through Shiro.

 

“Well, now I’m definitely not sleeping with you.” Keith tells him, ignoring Shiro’s quiet complaint as Keith pushes away from him. They both know Keith doesn’t actually mind, but they also know Keith is way too stubborn to give Shiro what he wants so easily.

~*~

 

There is a lot more to keeping your boyfriend tied up for a week than Keith had realised. As much as he loathes to admit it, he hadn’t thought the entire set up through all the way, had only seen the possibilities rather than the challenges. There was a lot to say about the images the idea of tied up Shiro brought to his mind, and none of them included their day to day routine.

 

That, as it turns out, was a mistake on Keith’s side.

The first night, sleeping already poses a challenge. Keith doesn’t want Shiro to be uncomfortable, but giving in and freeing his hands is defying the purpose. It takes some adjustments – in the end, Keith binds Shiro’s hands to his front instead, and they manage to settle in for the night. It’s not the best sleep Keith’s ever had in his life, he can admit that much, and Shiro probably doesn’t feel much better about it. Regardless, it’s not too often that he actually gets to sneak out to spend the night at Shiro’s dorm instead of his own, so he will take what he can get while everyone else is distracted for the week.

 

The next morning starts better by a long shot. Shiro is a little grumpy when their alarm goes off, but he doesn’t protest when Keith drags him out of bed and to the shower.

He’s grudgingly pliant when Keith pushes him under the spray and makes him raise up his bound hands. More than that, as soon as Keith’s hands run over his skin, the bad night’s sleep is forgotten and Shiro slowly comes to life under the touch as he’s leaning into Keith, a low hum resonating in his chest.

 

“I think I’ll enjoy this part.” Shiro murmurs quietly, his tone giving away how this affects him despite the feigned playfulness. “I could get used to you treating me like this every morning.”

 

Keith huffs, amused, and pushes further into Shiro’s space. The kiss is as short as it is intense, and when Keith breaks away Shiro follows for an inch, lips searching for more.

 

“Don’t get your hopes up, handsome.” He says quietly, leaning up as if meaning to meet Shiro’s lips again after all, only to pull away at the last second. “You’ve made me wait, now it’s your turn.”

 

Shiro makes a quiet sound of protest as Keith pushes away from him and shuts off the water. He tries to reach out for Keith to keep him close only to have Keith slip right out of his reach, replaced with a towel flying his way. All Shiro can do is watch after him and grin as Keith leaves him to dry off.

 

When Shiro finally follows out of the bathroom, Keith frees him from the clammy rope to allow him to get dressed – but the freedom doesn’t last long. As soon as everything’s in place, Keith is there to replace the restraints with a dry set - the purple of the rope stark against the muted Garrison slacks.

 

“You look good like this.” Keith teases quietly, hands smoothing over Shiro’s dress-shirt, grinning when Shiro rolls his eyes at him as if to hide the shiver Keith’s touch send through his body. “Come on, I guess I need to get some breakfast in me before class.”

 

Their first period is a shared one, which makes a few things easier at least. Keith grabs both their bags, draping Shiro’s over the man’s shoulder before taking his own in hand. Keith opens the door for Shiro, leading him through and out into the hallway before locking it again behind them.

They’re halfway to the closest dining hall when Shiro suddenly stumbles in his step and comes to a stop.

 

“Hold on a second.” He says, face pulled into a frown like he’s just now coming to some strange realisation. “You’re going to untie me for breakfast, right?”

 

Keith blinks. He hadn’t thought about that, in fact, hadn’t thought about much of what having his boyfriend tied up throughout the entirety of a week would entail – except for when his thoughts had gone down more inappropriate paths.

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m meant to keep you like this until next weekend.” Keith says nonchalantly, trying and failing to hide the smile creeping onto his face.

 

Before Shiro can answer, three girls pass them – Keith vaguely recognises them as classmates of theirs – with the one in the middle being restrained by bright pink plush cuffs. _Good_ , Keith thinks. At least he and Shiro won’t be the only ones really going through with this.

 

“Keith.” Shiro says again once the girls are out of earshot. He sounds pained, and it looks like he’s trying hard not to blush. “Are you serious?”

 

Keith raises an eyebrow. He knows if it’s too much, Shiro will say so – not just give him those puppy eyes and hope Keith will give in on his own accord. When Shiro doesn’t say anything more, Keith starts up walking again, resting a hand on Shiro’s arm to guide him along.

 

“I’m dead serious.” Keith says, even if his tone his playful. He’s having a lot more fun with this already than he believed he would.

 

 

The dining hall isn’t particularly busy, but it certainly isn’t empty either. Shiro fidgets, fingers curling around the rope tying his hands together, and stays strangely close to Keith. They’re not very public with their relationship, neither of them big on PDA – Keith is pretty sure even some of their friends don’t realise Shiro and him are dating. In this setting, reaching out to touch seems natural however – all around them people are joking and shoving their seniors around and no one bats an eye when Keith rests a hand on Shiro’s back as they get into the queue.

 

“What do you want?” Keith asks, looking over today’s offer, then up to Shiro who is frowning down at him.

 

“Am I allowed to eat it by myself?”

Keith smiles at Shiro’s reply, then shrugs as if he hardly cares at all. “You can try.”

 

Shiro opens his mouth, then closes it, lower lip jutting out in resemblance of a pout. He doesn’t say anything, and Keith is trying hard to not look too pleased with himself as he grabs some food for the both of them.

There’s an empty table a little out of the way, not quite out of sight but good enough for Keith. Shiro joins him reluctantly, sitting awkwardly because of the hands static behind his back.

 

“Eat some.” Keith says, and as nonchalantly as he can manage, offers Shiro a spoonful of porridge.

 

Shiro stares at the spoon, then at Keith, before he shakes his head very slowly. Somewhere, someone giggles, but Keith brushes it off to the amount of shenanigans that will go down this week.

 

“I’m not letting you feed me spoon by spoon like a toddler.” Shiro says carefully. He doesn’t ask for Keith to remove the rope again, so Keith only leans back in his chair, bowl of porridge in hand, and brings the spoon to his own mouth instead.

 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” He says and this time it’s near impossible to keep the amusement off his face. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?”

 

Shiro glares, but remains stubborn. Keith tries a second time a few minutes later, but the reaction doesn’t change. It’s almost enough to make Keith crumble – he doesn’t want Shiro to go about his day on an empty stomach – but Keith trusts Shiro to speak up if this is too far, so he stands his ground. It doesn’t stop him from grabbing some granola bars on their way out and to class – maybe Shiro will be more willing to accept those once hunger sets in later.

 

 Class is uneventful. Keith removes the rope around Shiro’s wrists as soon as they take their usual seats - not only is it Garrison rules that any shenanigans involving rented seniors take place outside of class, but Keith also doesn't want this to affect Shiro’s education. It's hard to take notes with your hands permanently secure behind your back after all.

 

Lunch break rolls around eventually, and Keith picks Shiro up from the last class - purple rope hanging over his shoulder and small grin on his face. Shiro doesn't look surprised to see him, just sighs in resignation and turns around to offer his hands to Keith and the waiting rope.

 

“Have you eaten anything?” Keith asks, looking up at Shiro once the other's hands are restrained again. It's genuine concern that makes Keith ask rather than wanting to tease, and Shiro seems to know that too.

 

Normally, they don't go for lunch. It's an hour in the middle of the day the can spend better elsewhere, to catch up on work or just enjoy each other's company - but if Shiro hasn't had any food yet that changes things.

When Shiro shakes his head, Keith sighs dramatically. He curls fingers around Shiro’s upper arm and drags him along, regardless of Shiro’s quiet protests that it's fine.

 

It's more empty now, which means they're early before the usual lunch rush. Keith manoeuvres Shiro into a sit, ignoring his boyfriend's protests before heading off to queue and grab some food.

Normally, Keith would get anything but the disgusting mac’n’cheese that Shiro is so fond off - but today he picks it up anyway. It's his form if a peace offering, meeting Shiro halfway.

 

It's met with a raised brow when Keith comes back and sets it down right in front of Shiro. Keith pulls up a chair and scoots close, fork in hand and eyebrow raised, waiting for permission.

Before Shiro can answer, loud hollering and laughter makes them both look up. A few tables away the same senior with the plush cuffs Keith had seen this morning is sitting with who Keith presumes are her friends. They're cheering and joking as she tries to eat an apple with her hands still cuffed behind her back - either too stubborn to accept help or easy-going enough to accept the ridiculous challenge first.

 

Shiro watches for a few seconds more when Keith has already turned back and finally, he sighs.

 

“Fine.” He mutters quietly and looks at Keith defiantly. Across the bridge of his nose and up to the tip of his ears, his skin is quickly reddening with a blush.

 

Keith does his best not to grin triumphantly, picks up the fork, and begins to feed his boyfriend. Somewhere, someone whistles, but Keith doesn’t know or care if it was meant for them.  Shiro flushes darker and Keith thinks if he gets this sight every day now, it’ll have been worth it to join in on the Garrison’s idiocy.

 

 

They fall into a routine by the third day, and while Shiro doesn’t seize complaining that his bound hands mean Keith has to treat him like a toddler, it’s mostly playful now. Maybe it’s the promise of reward at the end of the week and the unsubtle hints Keith drops that he certainly has plans for Shiro once the rope comes off, or maybe it is pure stubbornness that makes Shiro take his predicament this well. Keith doesn’t care either way: he’s having a way too good time pushing Shiro’s button when there is nothing the other can do against it.

 

More than once, the day ends with Shiro pushed into a seat, hands still tied, with a lap full of Keith who shows no mercy whatsoever and knows exactly what this is doing to Shiro. There’s slow kisses, easy touches – but never enough to leave Shiro anything but riled up and mildly frustrated.

 

“It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.” Keith whispers, lips brushing the shell of Shiro’s ear before he’ll be gone again and Shiro huffs his annoyance because both Keith and him know there isn’t much else he can do. It’s not like Keith to give in easily, and it isn’t like Shiro to back down from the posed challenge.

 

In the end, Shiro has always been more patient than Keith.

 

~*~

 

“You did really well for me this week.” Keith praises quietly, relishing in the way his words make Shiro’s cheeks turn pink.

 

Their dynamic isn’t always like this, but Keith can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the change for now. He hadn’t thought Shiro would handle the week as well as he had – especially given how many of the other seniors had dropped their restraints halfway through the week past. Of course, Keith wouldn’t have cared, would have untied Shiro the second he’d ask Keith to – but Shiro had remained unusually stubborn until the very last day.

Keith can’t deny that he is a little proud.

 

“Come here, let me get you out of these for good.” Keith adds in a softer tone, then reaches his hands out for Shiro who offers his wrists without question. It’s still morning, and just like every night this week, Keith had kept Shiro’s hands bound on his front rather than his back.

 

The rope becomes undone, dropping to the floor with a quiet thud. Shiro slowly flexes his fingers, trying to return feeling to the digits after a week of hardly using them. His wrists are still a little pink now, irritated from the exposure to the rope throughout the week, but Keith knows the marks won’t last beyond the hour. Even so, Keith soothes his fingers over the reddened skin, then brings one of Shiro’s wrists up to his lips to press a kiss to Shiro’s pulse.

 

“I mean it, you were so good for me.” Keith whispers. Usually, it’s Keith who is preening under Shiro’s praise, but it’s very clear now that the words are just as effected directed the other way around. “Lean back for me, I think you’ve earned a reward.”

 

“Keith.” Shiro protests quietly. “You don’t have -”

 

The look Keith shoots Shiro in return quietens him before all the words manage to leave his lips. Keith pushes Shiro back against the headrest, following suit and straddling Shiro’s lap with practiced ease.

 

“I want to.” He says firmly so there’s no doubt how much he means those words.

 

Nimble fingers run from Shiro’s jaw to his cheeks, before palms cup Shiro’s face and Keith pulls him closer for a kiss that conveys the same feeling his words tried to.

 

At first, it’s hardly a brush of lips, but Shiro practically melts into Keith’s touch. It seems to take him a moment to remember his hands are free now, and another to bring them up and let them find their place on Keith’s waist. By the time Keith licks his way into Shiro’s mouth, the kiss turning into something more heated and needy, the last doubts fall from Shiro’s mind and he relaxes under Keith’s touch.

 

It’s deliciously slow, intimate after all the subdued affection of the week before. Keith finds he can hardly get enough of it, and Shiro isn’t off any better if the quiet sounds muffled between their lips are anything to go by. Keith had purposefully kept him on edge all week for this, and Keith knows Shiro’s body well enough to draw it out just a little longer now as well.

 

“Off with this.” Keith orders between kisses, tugging at Shiro’s thin top to leave no question what he wants.

 

His hands are already pushing the fabric up, exposing Shiro’s abdomen and chest, when Shiro finally catches up and goes with the program. He leans back, raises his arms to allow Keith to pull it over his head, looking a little unhappy that he had to let go of Keith’s kisses to rid himself of the clothing.

Keith lets out a low hum, running his hands over now bare skin and pushing Shiro back against the headrest once more. There’s a grin on his lips – there is something about seeing the want in Shiro’s eyes, feeling Shiro’s hands on his hips and waist urging him closer that _does_ things to Keith he isn’t sure he can put into words.

 

When he leans forward this time, his lips aren’t seeking Shiro’s, but finding a path along Shiro’s jaw, then down his neck. Keith nips at pale skin, leaving little red marks in his wake that’ll fade within the day – but that isn’t enough for Keith, not today.

 It’s a dangerous game Keith is playing, but he knows exactly just how high he can suck a hickey into Shiro’s neck without it peeking out of the hem of his shirt.  Even so, Shiro mutters a curse that’s meant to be scolding but doesn’t actually object, not when Keith leans back with a grin to admire the mark. If Keith is weak for Shiro’s desire, Shiro isn’t off any better. Keith licks his lips, meets Shiro’s eyes for a second, before diving back in and kissing his path further down Shiro’s chest.

 

It’s still marvellous to Keith just how sensitive Shiro’s skin is to his touch. Every other kiss draws hitched breaths from Shiro’s throat or leaves goose bumps in its wake, hands on Keith’s skin twitching. By the time Keith slides off Shiro’s lap, his boyfriend is nothing but a shivering mess on the sheets.

 

“Let’s get you out of this too.” Keith purrs in a low voice when he reaches the waistband of the sweatpants Shiro sleeps in. The front of it tents over Shiro’s erection, a wet spot forming where the tip presses against the fabric. Keith already knows what is waiting for him there, and the little smirk on his lips is surely giving away his anticipation.

 

A shaky moan rolls off Shiro’s tongue when Keith frees him from the pants, tossing them to the floor and out of the way. Shiro is left bare and flushed in front of Keith, pink spreading from his ears over his nose down to his chest, legs spread lazily and hard cock curving up against Shiro’s stomach.

 

“You’re gorgeous.” Keith whispers, unable to stop the words as he takes in the sight in front of him. Shiro’s blush darkens, his lips part but he doesn’t reply, doesn’t seem able to when Keith regards him with such an intense gaze.

 

Keith’s palms run up Shiro’s thighs slowly, relishing in the twitch and tensing of muscle as Shiro reacts to the touch. For now, Keith doesn’t stall. One of his hands wraps around the base of Shiro’s cock, and it’s already enough to draw a needy moan.  The other curls around Shiro’s balls, a careful caress as Keith runs his other fingers along Shiro’s shaft.

Keith works him slowly, watching Shiro’s face as he responds to gentle touches. They have all day for this, and Keith intends to take as much time as possible to take Shiro apart in the best way he knows.  It’s a sweet kind of torture, because Keith knows Shiro a little too well, knows when to slow his hand as Shiro’s pleasure builds dangerously high, knows how to make it spike when Shiro’s moans turn to whispered pleas and complaints that Keith is being such a tease.

 

The second time that Keith pushes Shiro right to the edge of orgasm, only to draw his hands back, is met with a strangled moan that feels more like a cry than a sound of pleasure. Keith grins, especially when Shiro manages to raise his head to glare at him half-heartedly. Normally, Keith might have tried to see how much further than this he can push, but it’s been a long week and Keith did promise a reward.

 

“Don’t give me that look.” Keith says, tone more playful than he allows himself to be around anyone but Shiro. “I know you love this.”

 

Shiro doesn’t bother denying it, just grits out another plea between clenched teeth. It’s his turn to watch Keith’s every move now, and Keith doesn’t miss the way Shiro’s gaze darkens when he slides down the mattress to settle between Shiro’s thighs.

 

The gaze is only broken when Keith’s tongue darts out to lick flatly over the tip of Shiro’s cock, no finesse in the action but still more than enough to make Shiro’s breath stutter and make his eyes fall shut. Keith bites his lip to keep a laugh at bay, finding way too much joy in this, then repeats the motion slower, much more deliberate than before.

Keith can taste Shiro on his tongue, precum weeping from the tip of Shiro’s cock, and Keith hums his appreciation, lips vibrating against sensitive skin. There is a lot he loves about Shiro, loves about _being with_ Shiro, and this ranks high on the list.

 

“ _Keith_.” Shiro moans, although it sounds a lot like he is trying to say _please_ in the guise of Keith’s name.

 

 A hand finds its way into Keith’s hair, although it doesn’t pull, just holds on like Shiro needs something to ground him in this moment. Keith leans into the touch, if only a little before shifting closer so he can run his tongue from base to the tip if Shiro’s cock before closing his lips around the head and sucking hard.

Shiro curses, trying and failing to buck his hips as Keith’s hands hold him in place. It’s a thin line between too little and too much now, but Keith has some practice in keeping Shiro in the balance between them.  It’s a slow push and pull, Shiro’s quiet begs turn to incoherent moans the closer Keith pushes him to the edge.

 

“Keith, _I_ …” Shiro warns, then chokes out a moan when this only makes Keith pull off him again. It’s the sweetest kind of torture, Keith knows, but he isn’t sure how much more of it Shiro can take.

 

“Yes, Takashi?” He purrs even so, playing at innocence even as he sees the weak glare Shiro tries to send his way. It brings a lazy grin to Keith’s face, and he watches Shiro with the same amused expression while running fingertips lightly along Shiro’s cock. It’s almost enough just then, if not _quite_ yet. Keith knows how to play this game.

 

“Godammit, Keith.” Shiro pants quietly. He looks almost defeated and Keith would feel bad if he wasn’t in the process of making it up to Shiro.

 

“Consider it payback.” Keith whispers, and his head bows down again, followed by a torturously slow drag of his tongue along the underside of Shiro’s cock.

A shiver runs through Shiro’s body, his thighs twitch underneath Keith’s hold. With just a touch, he’s close again, and Keith doesn’t even try to hide his pleased little smirk. Shiro is putty in his hands, the pleas and curses tumbling from Shiro’s lips tangling more and more with Keith’s name, until it’s hardly intelligible at all.

 

Keith soothes his palms over Shiro’s thighs and abdomen, a gentle caress but nothing more than that. Against Shiro’s stomach, his cock twitches and leaks, aching for the release Keith keeps denying.

He trails kisses along Shiro’s hip, before he moves higher, kisses along Shiro’s chest until there’s nipples between Keith’s lips, and finally Shiro’s mouth underneath his own, coaxed open by a seething kiss. There’s no finesse or delicacy to the way Keith takes Shiro apart now, but there never was and there doesn’t need to be now.

 

Keith runs his hand down between them, wraps his fingers around Shiro’s cock once more, strokes quickly once – twice. A pause, Keith’s thumb circling the head, tracing over the slit, Shiro’s gasp swallowed by Keith’s lips.

Shiro’s hands are on Keith again now, as if he’s holding on for dear life. Keith strokes his cock, feeling it pulse desperately under the touch, moves slower now but more deliberate. It’s hard to bring himself to break the kiss, but Keith wants – no, he _needs_ to see Shiro’s face.

 

Cheeks flushed, eyes only half open, lips parted and pink from Keith’s demanding kisses – Shiro looks absolutely gorgeous. Keith knows Shiro is hanging on by a thread, and that’s exactly where he wanted him.

 

“You’re so good for me.” He purrs softly, watching his words make Shiro’s cheeks take on an even deeper colour, watches the way praise makes Shiro keen and shiver. “Do you want to come, Takashi?”

 

There’s no need for a reply, Keith already knows the answer to the question, but he watches closely and waits for Shiro’s small nod, the needy moan that by now only barely resembles Keith’s name.

It’s all Keith needs. A grin spreads over his lips, slow and dangerous, and his hand on Shiro’s cock moves once more. His grip his tight, palm rounding the tip with every stroke, gathering precum for a smooth push and pull.

 

With a guttural moan, Shiro’s head falls back against the headboard. He goes slack under Keith, only his fingers digging into Keith’s sides in a fight for some semblance of control, his hips bucking and trying to chase the pleasure Keith offers before he takes it away again.

 

This time, however, Keith has no intention of stopping. His eyes are trained on Shiro’s features, tight with pleasure as Shiro struggles to meet Keith’s eyes. It doesn’t take long, barely takes any time at all after how much Keith has worked him up. In no time at all, Keith can see Shiro getting close again, can see him fall apart in his whines and moans.

 

Keith leans close, lips almost brushing Shiro’s as he speaks.

“Come for me, Takashi.”

 

It’s not instantaneous, but Keith can see the words register in Shiro’s brain – sees his eyes widen before they close again as Shiro allows himself to let go. Keith shivers, jerks his hand around Shiro’s cock and then it wrecks through him – sudden and violent.

 

Garrison walls are thin, but Keith doesn’t find it in himself to hope Shiro’s neighbours aren’t in as Shiro rides out his pleasure more vocally than he usually allows himself to be. Keith is gentle now as he works him through it, watches Shiro ride out the waves of his pleasure until he goes slack below Keith.

 

His chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, Keith wipes the mess of them with a towel left by the bed to allow Shiro a moment to come back to him. Kisses along Shiro’s shoulder, avoiding all the little spots Keith knows are sensitive, until slowly, Shiro raises a hand up to Keith’s hair to tug him up for a kiss.

 

“You’re the absolute worst.” Shiro murmurs, still sounding a little out of it.

 

Keith is surprised by the laugh threatening to bubble up through his chest as he whispers: “Shut up. You love me.”

 

“I do.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [ percyinpanties ](http://percyinpanties.tumblr.com)


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